


Guess This Is the Winter

by patroclilles



Series: Perfect Places [2]
Category: Druck | SKAM (Germany)
Genre: (compliant...so far), Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Depression, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluffy Ending, Happy Ending, Ice Skating, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Makeup Sex, Pet Names, References to Depression, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Spring, Swimming, Teasing, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Winter, depression-to-recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-16 02:05:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18681916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patroclilles/pseuds/patroclilles
Summary: “It’s actually painful, how hard David pushes himself. A sharp turn here, a steep hill there—he rushes through them faster than he has ever before. Every trip is a personal record to beat, every cycle of peddling needs to be faster and stronger than the last. Of course, when Matteo bikes with him it’s fun, but when it’s by himself, it’s almost life and death.Someone once told him that he relies too much on the adrenaline, that he should cut back on the search for it. He never listened to them. He rationalizes pushing his own physical boundaries by telling himself: there are those who rely on substance––on drugs, on alcohol––but David would never let himself get there. He relies on his body and its boundaries, shaping them however the hell he wants and needs to.”





	Guess This Is the Winter

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, this is a sequel fic to my "Summer Rolled Us Underneath Her Tongue" fic in which Matteo and David discover a recluse lake in a forest, written from Matteo's point of view. This time, we're a little ahead in time, and it's in David's perspective. I tried my best to make it a stand-alone fic, so that if you haven't read the first part, then you don't need it to read this one. Hope it works! Though, I'd highly encourage you to read the other one for more depth and context. 
> 
> Like last time, this fic means a lot to me. I wrote it in the week following David's coming out and not having him since then has driven me literally manic (some of you have witnessed). I didn't know how much I needed David content until I wrote it. So I hope you guys feel the same release reading it as I do sharing it.
> 
> My Davenzi playlists played on repeat as I wrote this. Obviously, my David PoV playlist got me through this the most. [Here's the Spotify link.](https://open.spotify.com/user/jomontalvo87/playlist/24hRysLOq2LvuJi8ajRKaJ?si=zJKJxvLtQ4iNftsL0GWghA) (Tip: I'd say start with the last song, Stars and Moons by Dizzy. When I said I played that one on repeat the most, I mean it.)
> 
> Enjoy. 💖

It’s actually painful, how hard David pushes himself. A sharp turn here, a steep hill there—he rushes through them faster than he has ever before. Every trip is a personal record to beat, every cycle of peddling needs to be faster and stronger than the last. Of course, when Matteo bikes with him it’s fun, but when it’s by himself, it’s almost life and death.

Someone once told him that he relies too much on the adrenaline, that he should cut back on the search for it. He never listened to them. He rationalizes pushing his own physical boundaries by telling himself: there are those who rely on substance––on drugs, on alcohol––but David would never let himself get there. He relies on his body and its boundaries, shaping them however the hell he wants and needs to.

As he rides, David thinks about Matteo in bed, wrapped in a heavy blanket, sweating without making any movement. He thinks about Matteo being too lethargic to push the cover away. He hasn’t showered in days, and now David gets further and further away with every passing second.

The sight of Matteo absolutely terrified David. He had to run and he hates himself for it.

“This has happened before,” he remembers Hans telling him yesterday in the kitchen. David hadn’t asked for any further information, choked with empathy and frustration that he couldn’t do a goddamn thing about Matteo’s state.

“He’ll come out of this. He has before,” Linn said, responding to David’s crestfallen face. David hoped she was right.

But today was the breaking point. He walked into Matteo’s room for the third time in a week to find him in the same exact position he had found him the time before. It pains David to know Matteo is in pain, or too numb to feel anything at all. It reminded David that he had been there too, at some other point of his life that he never wants to revisit again. He remembered too vividly the time in his life when he was too terrified to exist outside of his own room. It became too much to handle––he saw too much of himself in Matteo. So he ran.

Now David rides unprepared for the early December weather, wearing no gloves to protect his hands or beanie to warm his head on this Monday evening. The oncoming winter whispers against his knuckles, threatening to break the skin there as the air dries it out. He is sure his skin will draw blood soon enough. He doesn’t care. His lungs burn and it gives him a high that only the slicing fall air can cut through. But he needs to do this. David needs to be alone.

He rides and rides and stops only to abandon his bike and run in the forest he had passed by alone so many times before. He runs in the forest he only got to know after he let himself be known to Matteo. He runs and runs until he finds a lake, the lake he and Matteo found this past summer.

 

* * *

 

“I still can’t believe you don’t know how to swim,” David teased as he stripped down to his swim trunks. The sunlight glinted off his own skin, golden pigments deepened after days of play in the sun. 

It was the dog days of summer, and the water was at its best swimming temperature. The lake had been theirs for a few of months now. Nobody was ever there when they visited and it was always there for them when they needed.

“You have known this fact for weeks,” Matteo replied. He rubbed the back of his neck. He stared at David as he walked backwards into the water.

“Don’t you want to learn?” David asked, grinning. He kept walking backwards, facing Matteo. His feet broke through the surface of the water, then his ankles, then his legs––and Matteo just kept staring.

Matteo walked closer, taking the bait. “If I drown, will you save me?” 

David played along, furrowing his brows mischievously. “Why, of course.”

Matteo’s nerves were palpable as he peeled off his shirt and left his swim trunks on.

David smiled. He cocked his head while he mouthed to the shy boy across from him, “come here.” 

Matteo side-eyed him as he approached the water, untrusting. He was right to be. As soon as he was within arm’s reach, David grabbed Matteo and lunged him into the water. They both went down, laughing and wrestling for dominance as they plunged under. David swallowed some water, coughing when he bursted back above the surface. He felt the discomfort at the back of his throat, knowing the feeling wouldn’t clear for a while, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Asshole!” Matteo exclaimed, pushing a laughing David who clutched his stomach as they both struggled for breath. Matteo’s fringe stuck to his forehead, and David’s laugh diminished to a giggle as he approached Matteo to brush the hair away from his face. Matteo’s breath calmed. David could tell Matteo forgave him instantly with the touch.

 

* * *

 

David wishes Matteo can forgive him now for being here without him, as guilt tugs at his heart. He stands by the lake, alone. The lake water is cold and completely still, missing the liveliness of summer. David knows exactly where he is, he could pull up coordinates if he wanted, but he is still lost.

David takes out his phone and texts Hans. _How is he?_

Hans replies. _He still hasn’t gotten out of bed._

David breathes deeply, staring at the sky like it held all the answers. He gives one last longing look at the lake before turning back. He drags his feet on his way to his bike, but he’s called back to a boy in a bed with the same pull. He feels like an anchor hitting the sea bed as a ship finds its home at the shore. He can’t stay out at sea forever, he knows this.

The ride back is bittersweet, less panicked and desperate than it was before. As much as it guilts him, he knows he needed to get away.

He feels eerily calm as he arrives at Matteo’s apartment. He walks up the stairs and finds his way to the bathroom. There, he washes his dry hands and applies lotion to them, taking extra care of his knuckles where the skin had cracked open from the rough ride. He spends a little too much time rubbing the lotion in, remembering the voices that told him to stop pushing himself too far. He forgives himself a little with every caress of the knuckles.

He quietly walks across the hallway to Matteo’s room, closing the door behind him as he enters. He leans on the door, staring at the unmoving figure in the bed, something tugging at his chest. He hates not knowing what to do. He wants to ask Matteo a million questions. _How are you feeling?_ He already knows. _What is plaguing you?_ It could be anything, or nothing at all. _What can I do besides wait?_ Not a thing.

He can’t be bothered to check the time, but it’s completely dark out. The moonlight shines through Matteo’s window, casting light on the side of the bed he lays on. David settles on the floor next to him and takes out his sketchbook. He begins to sketch an empty field with an abandoned bike on the foreground to the best of his ability with his limited light source.

David doesn’t know for how long he’s been sketching before he feels a weak hand comb through his hair. He rests the back of his head on the bed and looks up at Matteo, whose face rests just a few inches away from his own. Matteo’s eyes are half open, the bags underneath them darker than David has ever seen before. David revels in the feeling in his hair, appreciating the smallest of things. But that’s all Matteo does before closing his eyes and falling asleep once more as silently as he woke up. David closes his sketchbook and his eyes as he kisses Matteo’s limp hand beside him.

He hears a faint voice in his head, a colorless figure behind his eyelids saying humourlessly, _if I drown, will you save me?_

 

* * *

  

David wakes up the next morning smelling the whiff of a boy going on his fourth day without a shower. The smell chokes him, but not as much as the memory of the past three days washing over David.

David gets up and changes into the clothes he brought over for the weekend. After he brushes his teeth and washes his face, he stands by Matteo’s bedside. The sunlight rouses Matteo from his slumber and he looks as exhausted as he does bothered.

They managed to graduate this past spring, Matteo just barely. They enjoyed the summer with no rush, discovering new places, swimming in their lake. David experimented with graffiti in the new places they discovered. Matteo praised his work every time. He would play with the trash in these places like they were props in a play and he was the star, and David would always play along.

Even with their fun, David was quick to find a job over the summer, a weekend job as a barista at a coffee shop. Matteo was privileged enough for his father to support his lifestyle, but the thought of autumn and the reality of needing to find a job had loomed over him all summer, and David could tell it plagued him. Weekends where Matteo would sit by the window of David’s coffee shop with his laptop open, job searching, turned into weekends where Matteo spent more time smoking alone in his room, neglecting responsibilities. David saw Matteo spiralling before he knew what to do about it. All the while, David’s weekend job turned into a part-time weekday job in the fall.

It’s Tuesday, and David has a morning shift to get to.

“Hey,” David says delicately, wondering if this spiral could possibly get any lower. He kneels next to Matteo. “We should head out for the day soon.” Matteo looks up at him, confused.

“It’s Tuesday,” David continues. Matteo grunts. David swallows. The coaxing phrases he’d been rehearsing earlier stick in his throat like tar.

“Why don’t you come take a walk with me?” he manages to ask. If he takes time for a walk, he’ll be late for work, but he doesn’t care.

“Can you just leave me the hell alone?” Matteo’s words cut through the air and pierce through David so sharply he actually recoils. It if didn’t hurt so much, David would have noticed Matteo deflating immediately after the sounds leave his mouth, as if he regrets his outburst.

Shocked into silence, David leaves for work. The irony of it all is that, for once, he wants to stay.

  

* * *

 

“I don’t want to eat,” Matteo says forcefully, pushing away David’s hand. He’s only had cereal to eat, according to Hans, and it’s already sunset. Hans and Linn made dinner for all of the roommates and an extra serving for David. David ate his serving as soon as he arrived after work, but Matteo wasn’t as quick to devour his own plate.

The contact bursts something inside David. He doesn’t know what it is, but he takes a deep breath and walks to Matteo’s desk. He stands with his eyes closed and his back to Matteo. Then he places the plate down harshly.

“I don’t know how to do this,” David says underneath his breath with the most self control he’s exhibited in a while. But it sounds angry anyway, dripping with undertones of desperation. 

A few seconds stretch between them before Matteo replies, soft yet piercing, “Do what, exactly?”

David breathes deeply and turns to face Matteo, their eyes latching onto each other’s like fishes to hooks. Then David speaks. “For the longest time, I just looked out for myself, but now, I––” the words choke him, he can’t finish saying, _I care about you so much_.

“I don’t know how to do this,” he repeats, his voice breaking.

“I can take care of myself.” Matteo is angry now.

“But can you?” David’s voice is surprisingly loud.

Matteo’s face shows shock for a fleeting second, and then it turns angry again. “What’s that supposed to mean?” His volume matches David’s. “I’m not a baby to take care of.”

“I don’t think of you as––fuck!” David’s hopelessness seeps through completely now. He runs his hands through his hair, frustrated. He looks at Matteo, at a complete loss for words. He wishes that Matteo could just _feel_ what he’s feeling, instead of David having to fucking _say it_. The feeling chokes him. He wants to punch a wall. He wants to run.

“There’s nothing for you to do,” Matteo says, like he has already accepted his helplessness. His eyes shake and David has to look away from them. He can’t stay here anymore, so he turns towards the door.

As he leaves, David hears from behind him a scathing remark that echoes in his head for the rest of the night, “Yeah, just piss off, like always. You’re very good at that.”

 

* * *

  

The next day at work, David performs menial tasks with minimal effort. He can’t shake the resentment he felt emanating from Matteo during their fight the night before. When he got home and Laura asked him what went wrong, David just told her, and himself, that he needed to sleep on it, that it’ll be over tomorrow.

It’s Wednesday, and it was not over. During his break he resists the urge to text Matteo and ask how he’s doing, knowing he’ll just get ignored. Every second bites at his skin, reminding him of not having Matteo next to him and well. The seconds bleed into minutes, then into hours, until his shift is finally over.

He contemplates going to Matteo’s apartment or his own, where Laura is probably home from work herself. He thinks back to the week after David came out as transgender to Matteo, how every second was pure agony waiting to hear back from a dumb, sad boy. But when that text finally came, _I need time…I don’t want you to think I’ve left you hanging_ , it eased the pain in David’s heart, coating it after expecting it to get completely rejected. He channels that coating, easing him back to rational thought.

 _I need time_. They need time.

When he gets to their apartment, Laura is lounging in their makeshift living room on an old chair they found off the street.

“Matteo and I fought,” David tells her, no preamble needed. She knows from the night before that something was wrong.

“Why?” She asks, concerned yet reserved. She knows: pry too deeply and David will flee.

David thinks about Matteo in bed. He knows what it’s like to keep a secret and he respects that more than anything. Even if it’s his sister, he’ll respect whatever it is Matteo is going through right now.

“I just think we’re too different.” David leans on the wall across from her.

“How so?” She rests her head on the back of the chair casually. She waits for him to speak.

“We just––” he shrugs. “We deal with things differently.” He bites his lip after saying that, trying to find words but giving up after a few seconds.

It’s enough for Laura. She shifts her weight forward until her elbows rest on her thighs. She looks at David intensely and says, “Remember that different doesn’t mean incompatible.” It’s the most simple response but every word holds weight. She continues, “I’ve seen you two together, and even at your lows, you fit even if it doesn’t look like it. Just give it time. Let yourself feel how you feel, let him feel how he feels, and then meet in the middle.”  

David nods slowly, pushing himself off the wall. Laura stands up from the chair and meets him halfway into his open arms. David lets out a breath he didn’t know held so much tension into Laura’s shoulder, and she takes it. They’re like that for each other, they give and they take an equal amount. For now, this will do.

He goes into his room, temporarily shedding the guilt of not having gone to Matteo’s apartment instead tonight. He sleeps in his own bed, a phantom beside him silently waiting for his return.

 

* * *

 

On Thursday, David goes to work. Afterwards, he goes to Matteo’s apartment and Matteo isn’t there. He makes himself a late dinner and sets aside another serving for Matteo, just in case. He’s eating on the kitchen’s high table when he hears the floorboards creak loudly, indicating someone’s arrival.

David stills at the squeaky sounds, bracing himself for Matteo, since it could be no one else as all the other roommates are here. David puts another spoonful of food in his mouth to keep himself at bay when he sees Matteo’s figure appear at the kitchen threshold. They lock eyes for several awkward moments.

Matteo passes his keys from one palm to the other, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. The floorboards creak loudly. David chews slowly.

Matteo’s gaze circuits between the saran-wrapped dinner plate on the counter, David, and David’s plate. Then, he quietly enters the kitchen and takes the plate, grabs cutlery, and leaves to his room. David keeps a bittersweet smile to himself, gazing down at his food, accepting the small victory.

David knows they need to talk about the fight, but he doesn’t even know where they would begin. He thinks about it as he finishes his dinner and washes the dishes. Then he goes to Matteo’s room, where Matteo already lay in bed, a dirty plate empty of food at his desk. The sheets look new. David mentally notes the second victory of the night: Matteo changed his sheets.

David settles in bed, sitting up against the wall while Matteo’s back faces him. He feels every inch of distance between him and Matteo and wants nothing more than to close it, but he’s scared. He waits and waits and Matteo doesn’t turn. Something pulls at his chest, hurting because Matteo is usually so quick to seek intimacy, and David suddenly doesn’t know how to initiate it himself.

He opens up his phone and a fleeting thought occurs to him. He latches onto it before it can escape. He looks for an app and searches for a video. It’s almost desperate, how fast his thumb skids across the screen until he finds a thumbnail he recognizes. He presses play and waits.

Funny six-second videos play one after the other, sounds of niche humour filling up the reticent room. David recalls the first time Matteo introduced him to these kinds of videos.

“You watch enough of them and you catch on to the humour quickly,” Matteo had told him after David watched a whole five minutes of Vines without laughing. “You’ll see,” Matteo finished with a crooked grin. He played the next video, David helpless but to watch until he let out his first genuine laugh.

Now, David bites one back when his favorite Vine appears in the compilation, but the bed shakes with his chuckle anyway. The sound of recognizable punchlines and the low rumbling of David’s laugh rouses Matteo from his half-sleep. Slowly, he turns to David, avoiding eye contact but settling his head into his lap––another victory that makes David’s heart soar. He wordlessly shifts his phone so they can both watch the screen. He smells that Matteo has showered. David marks a fourth victory.

In six-second increments, David begins to learn how to be okay with the wait of recovery. He has no choice but to. Four victories in one night make it easier.

 

* * *

  

David wakes up on Friday morning wrapped around Matteo, their legs intertwined and their fingers laced together over Matteo’s chest. He doesn’t know how many videos they saw last night, just enough to fall asleep watching them. Matteo’s restrained laughter after days of melancholic silence fill up David’s memory. His chest brims with an emotion he can’t quite put words to.

Matteo wakes up, inhaling slowly and unlacing their fingers to rub at his eyes. 

“Good morning,” David says. David is close enough to see his own breath imperceptibly shift the hairs on the back of Matteo’s neck.

“Good morning,” Matteo replies, voice rough with sleep, and it sparks a desire in David’s belly that he tries to put a handle on. Matteo shifts to face David. When he settles, a small, shy lopsided smile grows on his face and David thanks the heavens for his day off work. He’s helpless now but to let the desire run wild.

David’s gaze drops to Matteo’s lips and drags up slowly to his eyes once more. He does this a few times before shifting his head towards Matteo in a silent request. Matteo complies, easily. Their hands wander and their bodies close in on the space between them. Time passes, counted in gasps and heavy breathing.

Matteo’s head eventually finds itself on David’s chest, his blond hair tickling David’s skin. He shifts closer, burying his head deeper into David’s chest as if to find a hiding place. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

“For what?” David asks, genuinely confused. He looks down at Matteo and combs his hand through Matteo’s hair, tousled from David tugging at it earlier when Matteo’s lips decorated his thighs, taming it now.

“For the things I said the other day.” His finger traces David’s right hipbone.

“I’m sorry, too,” David replies. “I mean it. I know what it feels like to be just…empty.” He pauses to parse through his words. Matteo outlines thin white marks left on the side of David’s abdomen, traces of Matteo digging too deep.

“I just have a different way of dealing with it. I never thought I’d deal with it any other way,” David manages to finish.

“Yeah,” Matteo says, sadness pooling out onto David’s stomach with just one word. David’s heart sinks.

A prolonged silence befalls them, and everything is laid bare. Matteo’s next question nearly cuts through tense air. “Where did you go? Monday night...That night I was….and you disappeared.” His voice is so small.

“Our lake,” David says, without a second thought.

“You went back?” Matteo asks, shifting so that he’s leaning on his right elbow, face level with David’s. David idly traces his index finger on Matteo’s left collarbone. He thinks about Matteo sighing out a release just a few minutes earlier, how the bone jutted out against Matteo’s skin when his head dug back into the pillow with a moan. Every nerve in David’s body feels alive and ready to hear that sound again.

He presses down on a dark blue bruise blooming on Matteo’s skin, a bruise _he_ left, just underneath his clavicle. Matteo closes his eyes as David says, slow and deep, “Why do you sound surprised?”

Matteo swallows, his eyelids opening languidly to reveal dilated pupils, and David finds himself on several planes of existence at once.

“Dunno,” Matteo says sheepishly, like he’s trying to hide something, like he’s holding something back. “I guess I just assumed we wouldn’t be going back until it warmed up again.”

David is quick to reply, “I wouldn’t let anything stop me from going back.” He trails a finger down Matteo’s sternum and their eyes latch onto each others’. ”You shouldn’t give up so quickly.”

Matteo contemplates David’s words. “Why did you go?” he asks.

Guilt resurfaces to his consciousness, and David feels the words wrap around his neck. He knows the question is not why he went _there_ , but why he went _at all_. He values being honest with himself more than anything, and he owes Matteo just as much, so he simply says, “I guess it’s like second nature.” He avoids Matteo’s gaze, hoping his answer is enough for now.

Matteo’s blue eyes assess him. Then he replies just as simply, “I understand.” David feels relief wash over him as Matteo rests his head on his own bicep, looking up at David.

He feels a question suddenly prickle at his mind, and since they’re already being so open and honest––“Do you remember? The first time you got like that?” David internally chides himself for failing to find the right words, but he’d die trying to find them as long as Matteo kept looking at him like that, so raw and bare.

Matteo’s expression saddens and his gaze shifts down to David’s arm. “I don’t know. Maybe last year, when Abi was looming.”

David hums in acknowledgement. He thinks about Matteo before knowing him, Matteo while getting to know him, and Matteo after knowing him. Some things start to fall into place, start to make sense. Some things weren’t normal for Matteo, and David is just starting to learn that now. 

They say no more about it. They lay in silence for awhile, their flushed skin calming to their neutral tones. 

Matteo reaches over David to grab his phone, opening up more Vine compilations that they eventually end up laughing raucously at.

“Let’s go back,” David says after a few videos, “to the lake.”

Matteo sets aside the phone and lets out a happy puff of air through his nose. He hums, bringing his pointer finger and thumb to frame his chin, striking a playfully pensive pose. He then shifts until he’s straddling David, his fringe tickling David’s forehead and providing a curtain of privacy for them both.

“Okay,” Matteo says before closing the distance between their lips, as if it's the easiest decision he has ever made.

David silently thanks Matteo for letting him into a world so dark no words could ever find enough light to describe the feelings hidden there. He remembers all the times Matteo asked David to spill open his heart––a small question here about his childhood, a big question here about his passions. He asks too often what would be too much from David if it came from anyone else. But when it comes from Matteo, maybe David would give him everything.

He parts his lips to meet Matteo’s, giving him this piece of himself to start. 

 

* * *

 

Slowly but surely, Matteo gets better, but autumn turns into winter quicker than that. In that time, Matteo finds a job as a cashier at a supermarket around the corner from his apartment. It’s not his passion, obviously, but it keeps him busy, and that’s what matters. At least that’s what David tells him.

Matteo hates it anyway.

“Today a lady tried to give me a coupon that expired three years ago,” Matteo says on an evening in late December, popping an almond into his mouth as David cuts some sausage for the dish they’re preparing together.

“David, pay attention to me.” Matteo grabs an almond from the bowl next to him and launches one at David’s head. David turns to Matteo slowly with a sardonic expression, eyebrows raised.

“Three. Fucking. Years,” Matteo repeats.

“I heard you,” David replies with a genuine smile, yet he still manages to look irritated.

“People are annoying,” Matteo huffs as he pushes himself off the counter and wraps his arms around David's midsection. He smushes his cheek against the back of David’s shoulder, so kittenish David wants to forego dinner altogether and just lay in bed wrapped up in the warmth and smell of Matteo.

“Yeah, they are,” David says pointedly. He shifts his head and looks down at Matteo, who looks up at him, cheek still pressed firmly against his shoulder. They stare at each other until one of them cracks and they both fall into fits of uproarious laughter.

They somehow manage to cook dinner through their laughter. They eat as silently as they can with minimal giggles exchanged between them. David washes the dishes and Matteo dries them. When they get into bed, David suggests a Jim Jarmusch film, and Matteo shrugs his approval, already dozing off. He falls asleep before the movie finishes, and David pauses it and closes the laptop softly so as to not wake the sleeping boy next to him. He wraps himself around him, and dozes off into dreams of entanglement.

The next day, Matteo goes to the psychotherapist, and David waits patiently at the apartment, shooting the shit with Hans and Linn. Matteo had gone a few times to the doctor within a couple of weeks now, having heard somewhere or read online that a diagnosis doesn’t take just one visit. David had done some mental health research on his own, but he learned most of his education through Matteo.

“Clinical depression,” Matteo says simply as he plops down next to David on the couch later that day after his session. “It’s just a preliminary diagnosis but,” he shrugs, “it’s something, you know.”  

Hans gives him a heartfelt hug, eyes sparkling with fondness resembling that of a father’s. He and Linn shower him with questions, knowing they can because he wouldn’t have told them if he didn’t trust him. _What are your treatment options? Will you have it for the rest of your life?_ They give him space when he mumbles and shrugs enough.

But David sits there, silent and in awe, as Matteo parses through his answers. He looks at Matteo, who finally has two more words to his world of darkness, a step closer to putting all the pieces to his own puzzle together, catching up to David’s own parallel, separate journey. There’s no question about it, David would spend his lifetime learning about the boy in constant recovery in front of him. But Matteo is just barely learning about himself on his own, while David does the same for himself. They meet in the middle.

 

* * *

 

“You don’t know how to swim,” David says teasingly, swaying his head to one side. “You don’t know how to ice skate…” He draws out the words, swaying his head the opposite direction.

Matteo sucks his teeth and rolls his eyes. “Don’t do this again,” Matteo warns as he takes off his boots to put on the dumb ice skates that his dumb boyfriend––his words, not David’s––bought for him.

David already walks around the snow, secure and balanced on just two blades. He knows exactly where to walk and where to shift his weight, while Matteo struggles to lace his boots. “Do what?” he asks boyishly. He watches Matteo wriggle to his feet.

“Tease,” Matteo finally huffs, standing straight with ultimate confidence. 

Now it’s David’s turn to suck his teeth. He tilts his head down toward the snow-covered ground and takes a step closer. When he looks up again, Matteo’s face is just a few inches away. “Wait until later, I can show you what real teasing feels like,” David says, raising his eyebrows to highlight his point.

Matteo swallows hard and sways in place. David grasps Matteo’s arms to secure him as the other boy’s ankles buckle.

David laughs, “You are hopeless.”

“Maybe so,” Matteo admits. “Now teach me.”

“Whatever you say, pretty boy.”

On the frozen lake, Matteo and David push themselves to their limits, learning and rediscovering a trick here, a touch there. Unseen bruises mark their skin every time Matteo falls and David with him, but their laughter fills the still forest air every time. If this is what pushing his boundaries feels like, David never wants to stop. He’ll seek the adrenaline until there’s no more, or until Matteo says the word and they take a break.

They find themselves eventually laying on their backs, spreading their arms and legs and drawing in the snow with their bodies. They stand up and Matteo assesses their handiwork.

“See?” Matteo says proudly. “I can be an artist, like you, too.”

And just like that, David melts. Sometimes, Matteo says the sweetest things and David is just helpless to let the words sink in. Not every remark needs an answer, so in that moment David turns to his boyfriend and kisses him slowly, marking another memory to remember this lake by.

David once told Matteo that places, like people, change. He looks at the boy before him, with lazy blue eyes that look into his own like they hold all the answers in the universe, and reflects on his growth over the past few months. He feels blessed to have witnessed Matteo’s journey.

He immerses himself completely in their momentary universe on a lake that changed with the seasons. This place holds so much for David, for them both, that he would probably fight to death to defend it. He finds his strength in Matteo’s kiss.

They rest their foreheads together. “And to think, I really assumed we wouldn’t be coming back here,” Matteo sighs.

“Yeah, because you’re an idiot.”

“Motherfu––“ Matteo’s hands find their way to David’s ribcage, and they cascade down, their clothes and the snow cushioning their fall, just barely. They warm up with wild laughter.

They lay there long enough for the snow on their coats to melt and seep through the layers, eventually cooling them down. David feels Matteo shivering as the other boy lay on top of him.

“Should we go?” David asks tenderly, brushing aside some of Matteo’s damp bangs. Matteo’s whole body tenses up. _Maybe he’ll get sick_ , David worries. “Matteo, it’s getting co––“

“You should move in with me,” Matteo says quickly.

“What?” David hears him just fine, but he just doesn’t compute it.

“Move in with me?” Matteo asks again, hesitant, into David’s chest.

Several long seconds stretch between them. Then David traces his fingers from Matteo’s hair to his chin, lifting him up to look him in the eyes.

"Okay,” David answers, like it’s the easiest decision he has ever made.

 

* * *

 

The logistics of moving prove harder later. But when is moving in with your boyfriend or moving out in general ever easy? Leaving Laura was the hardest part, but he’s still over all the time with Matteo. When they’re not over, she’s over at their flat-share.Besides, it’s days like today that make it all worth it.

Laura sits on the couch, making a Sunday morning playlist on Hans’ laptop, while everyone else performs their designated chore for spring cleaning.

The windows are open, and pollen breezes coolly through the living room as the past season’s hits play on the speakers. Someone sneezes and David calls out his blessings while Matteo mouths along and bobs his head playfully, using the broomstick as a fake microphone. All in all, the air of spring fills the apartment with life.

“Pass me the dustpan, _tesoro_ ,” Matteo says casually, gesturing towards the object by David’s feet as the dark-haired boy dusts the television set.

David tenses up and looks at Matteo out the side of his eye. Hans and Linn poke their heads out of the kitchen threshold and Laura looks up from the laptop screen.

Matteo realizes his blunder, his eyes widening. He folds in his lips into his mouth as if that was going to take his stupid, stupid Italian pet name back where it belongs: just between him and David.

“ _Tesoro_ ,” David lets the three syllables roll off his tongue like honey. He didn’t think he’d like to hear that word outside of their bedroom and apart from this morning. God, _their_ bedroom. 

“Get a room!” Laura yells from the couch. She throws a pillow at David, who laughs when he catches it.

“We literally do,” David says, throwing the pillow back at her. He looks at Matteo, who gives him his signature lopsided grin. _Yeah, they do._ Happiness blooms in David’s chest, bursting and he feels as though it reaches every infinitesimal corner of the apartment. The moment passes, and everyone returns to their tasks, only David feels like he and Matteo are vibrating at another frequency altogether.

Soon enough, the apartment is clean. But it’s Matteo’s bedroom that takes everyone’s breath away. Hans and Linn stand by Matteo’s door as Matteo strikes a pose, showcasing his and David’s handiwork with pride while David shakes his head in shame beside him.

“Wow,” Hans says, actually awe-struck.

“This is the cleanest this room has been since Matteo moved in,” Linn says softly, even looking up at the ceilings in wonder. Her eyes land on David. “We’re keeping you.”

David shrugs happily. “As long as you’ll have me,” he replies.

There are still a few hours until sunset, and they all end up relaxing on the living room couch, letting the music blast and the air refresh them up.

Matteo whispers a request into David’s ear, “Let’s go to the lake.” There’s a glint in his eyes seeking adventure that David can't say no to.

They go together, on their separate bikes, racing to their final destination. They let the cold early spring air brush their happy-stricken faces with no care in the world.

When they find themselves in front of the lake once more, it’s like they left it exactly how they found it the first time. In between then and now, the ice and snow had come and gone, and it looks like they hadn’t left at all, but they are back and different. They’ve grown, separately and together, and they've seen the lake in winter change for themselves.

“Can you believe it’s been almost a year since we found this place?” David asks in wonder.

Matteo steps onto a large rock where he had carved out a _D + M_ earlier in the year. “Yes and no,” he says, giggling as he jumps from one large rock to another.

David watches Matteo jump and jump until he tires out. He sits down on the same spot he did the first time he sketched here, where he drew the same boy who jumps now skipping rocks. He retrieves his sketchbook and flips through his cache of memories, drawn out exactly as he liked them. He pauses at all the sketches he’s drawn since they discovered this place, committing each drawing to memory over and over again with every flip of the page. So long as he has these memories, everything else is secondary.

David looks up at his muse and begins to draw.

**Author's Note:**

> If you made it to the end, I love you. You have no idea how much it means to me to have finished this. I get to breathe now! For those who have seen me come undone on the Druck Gays Only server writing this, you know how much this fic has enraptured me. I'm so glad I get to release it now. Thank you so much for your support, Druck Gays.
> 
> Thank you to Evann, Alex, Sunni, Alix, Rue, Connor, and everyone else who hyped me up one-to-one when I would send them all passages from my fic, needing a boost and inspiration. You are the ultimate hype team! Especially writer-to-writer, it was so, so helpful to have a sounding board. You're all invaluable to this fandom.
> 
> Thanks to Elias @toliveafulllife on Tumblr for the fic title since I had such a hard time last time coming up with one. It's a lyric from Hard Feelings/Loveless by Lorde (which is on my David playlist, so listen!), keeping up with the Lorde lyrics as titles theme!
> 
> And to everyone else, thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> You can also reblog my fic and let me know what you think on Tumblr @[this amazing moodboard ](https://nuevayor.tumblr.com/post/184597582373/guess-this-is-the-winter>nuevayor</a>.%20Criticism%20always%20welcome.%0A%0AA%20million%20thank%20yous%20will%20never%20be%20enough.%0A%0A%F0%9F%92%97%F0%9F%92%97%F0%9F%92%97%0A%0AEdit%20\(26/05/2019\):%20I'd%20love%20to%20drop%20in%20<a%20href=) that Tumblr user @thisfeebleheart made for this fic series. It really encapsulates the mood that I was going for when I wrote this. Go ahead and reblog it if you like it. :) I'm so happy my fic can inspire more content in this way, ah!


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